


Samson

by brightest_abstraction95



Series: we make fuckin' music [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (noone but billy and steve are actually in the fic the rest are just mentioned), Billy Hargrove Lives, Established Relationship, Gay Billy Hargrove, M/M, Moving In Together, Soft Billy Hargrove, Soft Steve Harrington, set in some future that is neither compliant or noncompliant with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightest_abstraction95/pseuds/brightest_abstraction95
Summary: The first night Steve and Billy stayed in their new apartment, the first night after Billy had moved out of his father’s house and into his own place instead of camping out at Steve’s parents’ or crashing at Hopper’s, they sat at their beaten up, secondhand kitchen table in their boxers and soft sleep shirts, and Billy asked Steve to cut his hair.--Or, Billy's hair means something to him and he's ready to let go. Steve might not be, who could blame him, Billy's hair is pretty as shit, but he's a good boyfriend so he gets over it. Sort of.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: we make fuckin' music [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019929
Comments: 7
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Regina Spektor's song Samson a lot and cried over it and then wrote this. That's it, that's the story.

The first night Steve and Billy stayed in their new apartment, the first night after Billy had moved out of his father’s house and into his own place instead of camping out at Steve’s parents’ or crashing at Hopper’s, they sat at their beaten up, secondhand kitchen table in their boxers and soft sleep shirts, and Billy asked Steve to cut his hair.

“You sure?” Steve asked, taking one long curl in between his pointer finger and thumb and rubbing it to feel its soft. Under the old yellow kitchen light he could see sparks of red in it, too.

Billy chomped his teeth at him, pretending to bite at his fingertips, teeth clicking. Steve would have let him.

“Yeah,” Billy answered him. “I’m sure.”

So he pulled a chair away from their little round kitchen table near the sink where there was an outlet, washed their kitchen scissors, and got the clippers from the bathroom.

Billy had taken off his shirt and was sitting in his old thin black boxers. His eyes were closed and his head was tipped back and the kitchen light cut shadows along his jaw line and his pecs and where his arms were laying against his sides and his hands where they were laying relaxed in his lap. His hair, which had grown out even more since high school, fell in yellow waves down the back of the chair, shining and a little frizzy. Steve hesitated for just a moment, looking at the fading freckles along the strong lines of Billy’s shoulders, looking at how Billy looked warm and relaxed, like something desperate and hard and violent was being bled out of him.

Steve had always known there was something feral about Billy. Billy acted like an animal protecting a wide, tender wound that never healed. It wasn’t an act with Billy either, like it was with Steve. Steve acted as tall as anything, strong, untouchable, because he wasn’t like that at all and if people found out they could hurt him so easily he thought they would never stop. Billy acted like he had known nothing but hurt all his life. He acted like he could swallow up all the hurt in the world and get right back up and roar.

“You gonna come cut my hair sometime tonight, pretty boy?” Billy asked, startling Steve out of his wandering thoughts. Billy had slid his ass down to the edge of the seat and spread his legs wide, lecherous tongue hanging out of his mouth. “Or you want me to let you admire me for a couple more minutes?”

Steve rolled his eyes but started walking again, plugging the clippers into the wall. “You’re so generous, but I’ll pass this time. I have some hair to butcher.” He joked, turning the faucet on and wetting his hands.

Billy jerked himself back up to a more reasonable sitting position and eyed him cautiously, leaning away. Steve tried real hard not to get distracted by how Billy’s muscles had tensed and rolled a little with his movements.

“I didn’t ask for my hair to be _butchered_ ,” Billy clarified. “I asked for a _haircut_.”

Steve started carding his wet fingers through Billy’s curls, dampening his hair. He tugged his fingers at a few knots.

“Well that’s on you for asking me to do it, and not a professional.” Steve answered lightly. Billy let his head lull in Steve’s hands anyway.

“Yeah, I guess that is on me.” Billy said in a sing song voice. “If you ruin my hair I’m not fucking you for a month.”

If Steve caught his fingers on a particularly stubborn knot and had to tug a little harder, he was sure it was unrelated. Billy huffed a laugh. Steve wet his hands and stroked through Billy’s hair two more times before he picked up the scissors. His hands shook a little and he looked down at them, surprised that this was making him so nervous. He played with Billy’s curls a little longer than maybe he needed to. 

“I can do it instead, if it makes you too sad.” Billy said, obviously smirking. He tilted his head back so he could look up at Steve and wink. Steve rolled his eyes and pulled on Billy’s ear. Laughing, Billy pulled away.

“How short do you want me to cut it?” He asked.

“Just even it all out, maybe shape it up around my face.”

Steve tried not to sound surprised - or disappointed. “All the way?” He asked, and his hands stilled. Billy reached up and grabbed his wrist, rubbing his rough, calloused thumb on the soft underside.

“Yeah, baby. _All_ the _way_.” Billy said, pitching his voice low.

“God, shut up.” Steve said. “Alright, let go. I’ll get started.” Billy obeyed and quiet fell over the kitchen. 

Steve took a deep breath, picked up the scissors, and began. He clipped each curl a few inches at a time, too nervous to do much. As he kept going, he gained confidence, and started cutting more efficiently.

“So what’s this about?” Steve asked as he cut.

“What’s what about?” Billy asked back. 

“Come on, Bill.” Steve snorted. “You know what I’m talking about. Yesterday you would have taken a knife to the tires of anyone who _blew_ on your hair. You spend more time on your hair than I do on mine.”

Billy reached around and pinched Steve’s thigh. “Don’t lie, pretty boy. I’ve never known anyone who prisses as much as you do.”

Steve smacked his hand away. “Shut up,” He insisted. “I’m serious. Why did you decide you wanted to cut your hair?”

Billy hummed for a minute.

“I don’t need it anymore.” He said finally, his voice quiet. Steve sat with that for a minute, wetting Billy’s hair again. “It was one of the only things I could control. That was _mine_. He hated it, so I kept it.” If Billy ever talked about Neil, it was like this, in vague, distant language.

“Did you never actually _like_ your long hair?” Steve asked, trying not to sound a little mournful.

“No, I did. I did. I just… don’t need it anymore.” Billy repeated, and Steve thought he might understand. “You gonna miss it, baby?” He teased.

Steve leaned down and kissed his neck, which was bare now. “A little.” He answered, almost honestly. He was probably going to miss it a lot.

“Aw,” Billy cooed.

“Shut up.” Steve laughed softly, and then straightened back up. “I’m just about done. I’m going to get the clippers and clean it up around the bottom, or else you’re gonna look like Will got a perm.” They both laughed and Steve turned the clippers on, stretching out the cord as far as it would go. The kitchen fell quiet again except for the buzz.

Steve thought about what Billy had said again, about not needing his long hair, his visual ‘fuck you, dad’ message anymore. He started, just a little bit, to hope that Billy meant a lot of things by that. Like he didn’t need his rage anymore, he didn’t need his hurt anymore, he didn’t need his darkness anymore. He hoped Billy didn’t have to feel like he had to fight to survive anymore. He knew there were a lot of things his boyfriend would never let him see. He knew there were things he would never understand, that Billy didn’t talk about, and he was ok with that because he was the same way (sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you… I know I was screaming again, see, when I was in high school this girl got eaten by a monster in my pool and I just had to keep living there, pretend it was my home still, keep my windows covered because what if I looked out my window and the monster was back for me?).

Before Billy, until Billy, Steve hadn’t felt alive for a long time. Sometimes he wondered if he ever had. But then, Billy had stalked into school, a barely contained force of life, anger and will and strength coming out of him like fire. There had been a lot, a lot that was ugly, but a lot of life is ugly, isn’t it? And good or bad, Steve had startled awake at the warmth of Billy’s fire and it was inevitable that he would fall in love. He couldn’t have helped it. Billy was the most real, solid thing he had ever seen before in his life.

Holy shit, he was going on like a stupid medieval poet or something. What was he fucking thinking? He was almost done with Billy’s hair anyway. It wasn’t really fancy, or anything, Steve wasn’t a barber, but it was even enough, he thought. And it was still long enough that if Billy hated it, there should be enough for an actual barber to salvage without just shaving the whole thing. It was still long enough that there were still curls he could touch.

When Steve officially set the clippers down, Billy raised a hand and started running his fingers through his new hair, laughing breathlessly at the feel of it.

“I like it,” He told Steve, who huffed uncertainly.

“You haven’t even seen it yet. Wait till you look in the mirror before you say anything else.”

“Yeah, ok, you’re right. Time to go see if you’re getting laid in the next four weeks.” Billy answered, standing up, light and laughter glinting in his eyes. Steve could stare at him for hours and still not be used to the new hair yet.

He rolled his eyes. “Consulting the groundhog?”

Billy laughed, his back already turned as he headed to the bathroom. “Could be four weeks of cold, cold winter for King Steve.” He called over his shoulder.

“Just remember you asked for it.” Steve yelled, and went to grab the broom to start sweeping up drying gold curls from the floor. He tried to sweep thoroughly, and it helped that the hair was still wet. It only took him a few minutes to get up all the hair he could, and he threw it all out. By then, Billy came back and wrapped his arms around Steve from behind, lifting him up a little.

“I like it a lot,” Billy said, and kissed his left shoulder blade. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Steve answered warmly. “Coming to bed? Or you want to shower first?” He turned back around, still in Billy’s arms, and brushed a few stray, short pieces of hair off of Billy’s bare shoulder before settling his arms around Billy’s neck.

“I’ll rinse off quick.” Billy answered, kissing Steve’s cheek, right under his eye. “You can go on to bed.”

“Yeah, I think I will.” Steve said. “Mine or yours?” They had gotten a tiny two bedroom apartment and each claimed a room as their own because both liked their space, and they were ok with that. 

“Mine?” Billy suggested. 

“Ok.”

Neither of them moved for a minute. Steve was looking at Billy’s hair. Billy was looking at Steve’s lips. Steve wanted to hold Billy’s face between his hands as Billy smiled, and look more at the way his curls now crept around the sides of his face, towards his jaw, over his cheekbones, just a little. He hadn’t thought about how Billy’s long hair had softened his features, made him look young and as fierce and impish and wild as Peter Pan (not the Disney movie. He was helping El read the book. It had always been his favorite when he was a kid, and wasn’t too difficult for a beginning-to-intermediate reader. Maybe he thought about Billy too much while he read the book to El. Maybe he thought about him too much period.). Steve watched Billy scrunch his nose up a little and laughed, blowing into his face.

“Getting itchy?” He asked.

“A little.” Billy answered.

“Ok, go on and take a shower. I’ll head to bed.”

“Ok.” Billy answered. They didn’t move again.

Steve smiled and rolled his eyes a little, started to move away. Billy didn’t budge. Steve couldn’t get far with Billy’s solid arms still around his waist.

“Ok, let’s get a move on, you gotta let me go.” Steve reminded him. Billy scowled playfully.

“Fine, fine.” He said, and let his arms drop. Steve ran his hands through Billy’s new hair one more time before moving away and toward Billy’s bedroom. Billy flipped the light switch on his way behind him, and the kitchen went dark.

Steve switched on the little lamp on Billy’s nightstand and threw himself into Billy’s bed, which had soft grey cotton sheets and no comforter, just a couple big blankets and a couple of big pillows. Billy’s room was haphazard, with a few bookshelves slowly starting to acquire more books, and a record player and an eight track player in the corner, a desk under the little window, a dresser and a wide square mirror on the wall across from the bed. The dresser and the nightstand and the desk were littered with water glasses and beer cans and a few plates with pizza crusts and other food residue on them. Steve made a mental note to come back in and clean up a little tomorrow.

Billy was only in the bathroom for five, maybe eight minutes before he came back into the room, still slick from the shower, back in his black boxers. He came over to the side of the bed Steve was on and stood silent for a minute.

“Hey,” Steve said, confused. Billy leaned his head out and shook it violently, spraying Steve with cold, stinging water droplets. Steve shrieked and jerked away. “Dick! Stop it! Stop!” He yelled.

Billy belly laughed even as he climbed over Steve, his skin wet too, and covered Steve’s mouth with his hand. “Shh,” He said, “You’ll wake up the neighbors.”

Steve mumbled what a jerk he was into Billy’s hand, but it all came out garbled, and seeing how Billy’s eyes scrunched up with mirth made it not so bad that a few cool water droplets were rolling down his jaw and neck and against his hair line, and there were spots on his shirt that were cold against his skin now.

“You done?” Billy asked, smirking, and Steve pushed his tongue out into Billy’s hand. Billy groaned obnoxiously, rolling his eyes up and closing them, like that was the hottest thing that anyone had ever done to him, rolling off of Steve and onto his back beside him. They were both laughing when they moved again, situating themselves under sheets and a blanket and against each other. Billy reached over and switched the lamp off.

Steve lay his head on Billy’s chest and Billy brought up a hand to rest on Steve’s head and they felt each other breath in quiet for a minute. Their eyes slowly adjusted to the little bit of light that the moon was shedding on them from the window, but Steve could already feel the pull of sleep.

“Thank you.” Billy breathed after a while. Steve had just started to drift off, and he shook himself out of his almost-sleep.

“For the haircut? Sure, babe, it wasn’t a big deal.” He said, sleep slurring his words a little.

“Not just for the… not just for the haircut.” Billy answered, sounding more thoughtful than hesitant. Steve had only seen Billy hesitant once - when he asked Steve out for the first time. Not before that, when he had apologized to Steve for everything. Not when he had started meeting Steve out at the quarry, and at work, not when he had talked to the rest of the kids, not when he had gone outside to talk to Hopper about things he still hadn’t told Steve about, not completely. Billy wasn’t one for hesitance. If he had something to say, he said it. “I never really thought I’d make it to eighteen, much less… here. Whatever. I always thought that my goal was when I turned eighteen, I was going to bring him down. Like I needed to destroy him. Even though I knew I wouldn't survive that. Because I couldn’t just walk away, you know? I couldn’t imagine living in a world where he thought he had gotten away with everything. But now… Now I don’t feel like I need to… you know, go down swinging or whatever. I can just keep on keepin’ on.”

“Thought you were goin’ down in a blaze of glory?” Steve asked, keeping his voice light, but soft. He wasn’t sure how much they were joking about this. This was as much as Billy had ever talked about any of it.

“Yeah,” Billy snorted, “Something like that.” He started running his fingers over Steve’s arm, back and forth, very lightly. 

“Well, I guess now you just gotta stick around and get old with me, Bill.” Steve sighed, like it was going to be a real chore, like it wasn’t everything he could ever want. 

“Let’s get boring together, baby.” Billy said, and if his voice sounded a little heavy, like he was a little choked up, Steve didn’t mention it. He liked the sound of that though, getting boring together.

Steve drifted back to sleep soon after that, maybe drooling a little on Billy’s bare chest, still with the feeling of Billy casting his fingers back and forth over Steve’s arm. Maybe Billy didn’t get much sleep that night, pressing lingering kisses into Steve’s hair, feeling Steve’s weight against his chest and down his side and over his leg, thinking about feeling like this the rest of forever. They could definitely be ok with that, getting boring together.


	2. up next

for anyone who enjoyed this story, i'm adding to this universe! thanks so much to everyone who commented on this work: sometimes when i'm feeling extra shitty I come back and read your kind words. I really hope you love what's coming next, i've been loving making it for you.

newest work: [Show You Better](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627275/chapters/67593791)

series tag: [We Make Fuckin' Music](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019929)


End file.
